


Aimless

by SeaStorrm



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Amputee, Kinda, M/M, POV Second Person, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, errorink is barely there but it’s implied in the future wink wonk, multiverse on the surface?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 02:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20846192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaStorrm/pseuds/SeaStorrm
Summary: “Now everything that made you, Ink, is gone. Your memories hazy, suddenly you remember that you always had the memory of a goldfish. And of course even on top of that, you can't fucking walk anymore.“





	Aimless

**Author's Note:**

> sorrow is my oc, he’s a sans.
> 
> everything else belongs to other people

Sitting in that wheelchair.. Missing your two legs. It's only been a week.. But they haven't even shown a sign of regrowth. What's wrong with you?

Is this a curse?

It's hard to even sit up straight without the extra balance support beneath you. So there's this itchy, annoying, "my mom made me use it" velcro strap that keeps you bound to the back of the chair.

It makes you feel helpless.

Your brother Sorrow—Like the sap he is—can't bear to look you straight in the eyes. It's just heartbreaking for the both of you. Less so for you, though, soulless bastard. None of those feelings are real. Hell, they never were.

It's way too hot, you think. Why is the surface always so.. Dreadfully hot? Do humans really live this way?

Sorrow looks at you again. Still only at your missing legs. The pants are airy. "....i-it's hot i-isn't it, uh... B-bro.." you hear him choke out. You turn your head to the side with a barely visible nod.

"I—" Sorrow pauses, panting lightly.

You hear the always present trembling in his voice. "I hea...heard that, haaa.... uh... Humans c-call this s-s-suuummer!" You remember how Sorrow has always spoken weird. He stutters, slurs, begins pronouncing something, but it ends up being unintelligible garbles.. etc. And you remember how much he says 'uh.'

You swore you could feel something. But you won't let it get to you.

"Well, summer sucks.""Suuu...rre does, bro. Y-yeah. T-too hot." Sorrow sounded as if he was going to cry. It's not like he hasn't done it multitudes of time in the past, though. But, you've barely said anything to him. Barely said anything since your legs.. Left you.

For just a split second, you and Sorrow lock eyes. That's when he walks behind you to push the damned chair. "W-want to goooo to the, uh.. Th-the paaaarr.. Park?" he asks you. Might as well say yes.

It's not like you'd have anything else to do besides browse the UpperNet. Which you admit can get boring after some time. So you tell yes to Sorrow by giving yet another barely visible nod. Streams of tears crawl down your brother's bony cheeks. Same old Sorrow. Was a crybaby, always a crybaby.

"Love.. You.. B-bro.." He manages to say through silent sobs and sad sniffles.

Too much emotion for one day, is what you think. You tilt your head up and down ever so slightly. Then you fall asleep, despite the horrendous velcro strap thing that you hate. Despite the barely bumpy sidewalk. Despite the fading sobs of your sorrowful brother— Sorrow.

But before that, you may think a real smile had painted your face. Just for a moment.You decide not to put your mind to it, though.

—————

Birds are singing.

Flowers are blooming.

On days like these...

The world thrives harmoniously.

You wake up. Your brother is holding his legs up to his covered ribcage like a baby bones who didn't get what they wanted. It's what he does when he feels "emotionally wrecked." Though he only likes to hear that term when talking about the emo teen years. When he tried making that gross emo music.

For whatever reason, this made you think of when AUs lived separately. About the time when you were the Protector. When there was chaos. Before you reunited with Sorrow. You remember how you never met the supposed arch-nemesis who you were fated to battle. But then the worlds were brought together in unity. The Surface and humans accepted all of you; All of the monsters from every universe. And here you are now.

Except the only difference is you've got no legs. Usually they'd be starting regrowth about now without the interference of ink. It would take a few weeks, but you'd be good as new after that.

The only explanation you could come up with is the universes' punishment for you; for doing such a sucky job as Protector. Or it could just be some stupid curse, cast by some stupid monster's magic. You don't even remember how you lost your legs in the first place. It's all too fuzzy. You haven't been using your fake emotions recently. Actually, you don't even know where they are. The thought certainly does make you aware.

Anyone here could do something to harm you.. After all, you are more vulnerable than ever before. You don't even have your trusty oversized paintbrush! It's possible you're even being targeted. There's bound to be someone that remembers you, or at least knows who you were.

"Stop being so sad around me. You know they'll eventually regrow," you say flatly. "Oh, wait. You're always sad; and that's around everyone, too." Sorrow removes his arms and sits criss-cross on the newly-built bench."Heheh, th-that's true bro," Sorrow trembles. "But, uh, y'know.. Y-you could alwaysss get a, uh... Pr-prosthetic for b-both leeggs, right?"

"Waste of time. And money," you reply bluntly. "By then they'd probably be back." Your brother only nods distantly. Truthfully, neither of you know when the little stubs you used to call legs will regrow. Painful as it is, there may be no future for them. That you'll forever remain a somewhat paraplegic skeleton. You are immortal, after all. There is no way to truly die, to disappear. Not that you even want to; the new combined world is full of beautiful life and eternally more to come. It's just that, as the former Protector, as the name suggests, the natural desire to protect is ever present. But without legs, weapons and a handful of key memories, that job seems unapplicable. If there were some way to reset yourself, you'd go through hell and back searching for it. 

You faintly wonder if the infamously legend-bearing Destroyer ever existed again. If they went through hell and back to find you, and for namesakes, destroy you. Maybe life would've been a little more interesting.

Sorrow had been crying again while you were off in that daze. The earthly sun highlights his tear-streaked face, and for a moment you feel a twinge of pity. Or at least that's what it feels like. Who are you kidding, though? You know you can't feel anything. Emotionless to the core. Not even the facade of the happy-go-lucky Protector changed the fact. None of the emotions you felt ever seemed genuine because they weren't. Stolen feelings, feelings that were never rightfully yours shoved into flashy colors and glass paint bottles. Those were your only mask. 

Now everything that made you, Ink, is gone. Your memories hazy, suddenly you remember that you always had the memory of a goldfish. And of course even on top of that, you can't fucking walk anymore. 

Distantly you inquire the existence of a god, unfathomable as to why they chose to make you this way. Not even a devil would bless an entity with immortality yet leave it without a soul, no. There is no way for them to suffer if they cannot feel in the first place.

You feel slick sweat running down your skull, the discomfort of the humid heat finally starting to get to you. That velcro strap is really starting to make you feign fussiness. The chair squeaks audibly as you rock back and forth, catching your melancholic brother's attention. He knows what to do. They all seem to know what to do. Except you. 

You hazily scan the surroundings as Sorrow gently pushes the chair down the newly-paved sidewalk. Humans litter the area like ants. Little shops and restaurants line the sidewalks. For a moment, a stranger with bones pitch black and wild red wearing an aloha shirt catches your attention. You feel like you should know who he is. You feel like he knows who you are. For a split second in the moment you saw him, he catches your attentive gaze. It felt almost as if something shifted in the universe in that seemingly mundane interaction during that moment you saw the stranger. You note offhandedly that he had pretty eyes.

God, the heat must be getting to you.

**Author's Note:**

> edit: if anyone wants to see the drawing i did based off this, you can find it here:
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/mozarttheduck/art/purpose-815274728


End file.
